Tracking the mysterious origins of the Lincoln Imp

Cory Santos is a postgraduate researcher at the University of Lincoln who specialises in the social history of Britain during the Second World War. Besides his main research focuses, he also enjoys local history and the interesting tales it often turns up.

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Most of us are familiar with the Lincoln Imp, the mischievous, sinister but somehow likeable mascot of the city. Its figure adorns t-shirts, coffee mugs and even little figurines which can be hung up around the house (including one prominently displayed in my kitchen). It may be surprising, however, that the imp — to many the most identifiable representation of Lincoln — is not only found just in our city but was quite prevalent around the country. One such example is in Grimsby, the story of which I will now share.

The imp at Lincoln Cathedral

There are many tales regarding the mysterious origins of the Lincoln Imp, so for the sake of simplicity I will stick to the one which I find most entertaining. According to the legend (some time in the 13th or 14th century), the devil spawned a pair of mischievous imps to wreak havoc upon the north of England. According to the tale, the imps first attacked Chesterfield, where they wreaked havoc upon the parish church of St. Mary’s, where they twisted the church’s famous spire to its present shape.

They then continued their path of mayhem in Lincoln, entering the cathedral where they began to make a mess of it, turning over furniture, tripping up the Bishop and throwing things about. It was during this time that the angel of The Lord, removing itself from the Bible upon the altar, commanded the imps to halt their wicked ways. One of the creatures, fearful of the angel, duly hid under the altar. The other, however, mocked the angel and began throwing stones at it. The angel, in a fit of anger, cast a spell upon the imp instantly turning it to stone.

According to some tales, this second imp was later frozen in stone by the angel and can be seen on the southern side of Lincoln Cathedral. According to others, however, this second imp was said to have travelled to Grimsby where it entered St James’ Church and began repeating its destructive behaviour. The angel then reappeared and gave the mischievous creature’s backside “a good thrashing” before turning it too into stone.

The Grimsby Imp can still be seen in St. James’ Church clutching its sore bottom.

This story is an enjoyable and fanciful explanation for these two carvings of demonic imps, but the real reason for their existence is much more mysterious and possibly intertwined with paganism. While they may now be best identified with Lincoln (the figures are widely known as ‘Lincoln Imps’ and replicas adorn Lincoln College, Oxford in honour), the figure of the imp is much more common than one may initially think.

A carved imp in the priest’s room at the Mary’s Church in Beverley.

Besides the figures in the Cathedral and St James’s Church in Grimsby, similar Imps can be seen in the masonry of buildings across northern England and Scotland. Other prominent examples include St Mary’s church in Beverley, East Yorkshire, St. Vigean’s church in Arbroath, Scotland and wooden carvings of the creatures in Stirling Castle. Imps were, in fact, an extremely popular door knocker amongst Britons well into the 19th century and well before the creature became to be identified with our city.

St Vigean’s Church in Scotland also has an imp-like figure.

What is notable about all these examples is their depiction of the imp, with hooves, sharp, pointed teeth, ears from a cow and a hairy body. Also, they all seem to pre-date the modern period, with most carved during the Middle Ages.
The most likely explanation for their existence is as a pagan deity which survived and thrived in the Christian world, much like the famous ‘Green Man‘ (a mysterious face surrounded by and sometimes spewing vegetation, thought to represent rebirth and springtime and argued to be the inspiration for a number of tales including Peter Pan, though that is another story for another day). The imp, therefore is likely similar in nature, perhaps representing a deity associated with agriculture or the keeping of livestock.

Regardless of its obscure origins and prevalence throughout the country, the imp has come to represent Lincoln as its mischievous mascot. So next time you see our little friend perched up in the cathedral, take a moment to ponder its mysterious past. He may not originally be from here, but he has certainly become Lincoln’s favourite little fiend.

We already knew of the first story which we told our children when they were little but never heard of the Grimsby connection. We also have a small replica of the imp in our house and we always had one in our parents house where we grew up. Also have childhood memories of searching for the imp in the cathedral. We are quite fond of the Lincoln imp.

Very interesting story. The Lincoln Imp may have been mischevous but one citizen of Lincoln was grateful to it. James Ward Usher was born in 1845 in Lincoln, son of James and Jane (nee Duckett) Usher. He joined his father in the business in 1860, the business was renamed "Usher & Son". He took over the business in 1874. He obtained the sole rights to use the Lincoln Imp, and sell it in jewellery. James was a passionate collector. Over a period of 30 years he built up a large collection of clocks, watches, ceramics, miniatures, coins, silver and paintings. A talented artist, he made an illustrated inventory of his collection. His collection is now housed at the Usher Gallery (The Collection). He never married. He died 1921 in Lincoln. He bequeath his collection and money for a building to house it to the people of Lincoln.